


'Keeping Promises' by Kamira

by scrolls_ladyof



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-19
Updated: 2011-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-17 03:12:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrolls_ladyof/pseuds/scrolls_ladyof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faramir is called upon to fulfill a promise Boromir once made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Keeping Promises' by Kamira

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing(s)/Warning(s): Well there aren’t any really...but if even a humorous kiss between a hobbit and a man bothers you, don’t read this.  
> Author notes: This is humor (sort of) with only the slightest hint of slashiness. And a leavening dollop of angst. A bet was made that “Even you can’t get me to believe Faramir would kiss Pippin, and you’re really good at getting me to believe anyone would kiss anybody.” To which this is my response. So you see it’s all really Kristin’s fault. Honest. :-) And many thanks to Laura for the betaing. It is a better story for her work.

It was, Faramir determined, going to be one of those days that dragged on in slow debris laden waves until it finally spent itself in uselessness. Each and every task that had befallen him had taken twice as long as it should have and had only been accomplished after great amounts of stupidity had been evidenced by all involved.

“You look exhausted, Faramir. Are you not feeling well?” Aragorn asked, the healer’s concern obvious in his voice. Faramir shook his head, letting the door close behind him. As was becoming their habit he joined his King before dinner to discuss how things progressed in the rebuilding of Minas Tirith and if anything had befallen either of them that needed to be known by the other.

“I have come to the conclusion that the people of Gondor have been far too isolated and the resultant inbreeding has left the entire city devoid of anything that might once have been termed intelligence.” Faramir replied before he realized he had spoken out loud. It was, in a small childish way no doubt, almost worth the flush of embarrassment he could feel cross his skin to see his king choke on the swallow of wine he had just taken.

Aragorn tried unsuccessfully to glare at his Steward but then seemed to decide the cause was lost and only laughed. “Then you will be glad to know there is a contingent of Rangers from Arnor who will be arriving within the next ten days. Perhaps they can offer the city some... freshness to the bloodlines.”

Despite his lingering embarrassment Faramir smiled. “Well– I would be far happier to hear of a contingent from Rohan arriving but I will do my best to welcome our Northern kindred to the city.” He sighed as he took the seat Aragorn gestured him into. “If I can find anyone in the city with sense enough to know if we have rooms available.”

“I take it your day was...full of disappointments?” Aragorn only smiled at him as he poured him a goblet of wine.

“I passed disappointment sometime just after breakfast I think.” Faramir took the goblet with a nod of thanks. Then he shook himself a bit. “I am sorry my liege, surely you do not need to hear me complain of such trivialities. It was nothing that could not be managed, only drudgery. Did anything of import happen in the council meeting? I was detained by an– incident with the workmen on level six.”

Aragorn raised one eyebrow in silent query but did not press him for details of the incident. For which Faramir was glad. He had no real idea how to describe the insanity of finding out that the crew had, in the rebuilding of one of the great houses of Gondor’s elite families, come across a great trove of what could only be described as...toys of very adult diversions and proceeded to make a great production of offering them to any unwary women and not a few men who happened by.

“Nothing of import has happened at a council meeting in three weeks. I think I shall have Gimli carve a statue of myself and set it upon the throne and see if anyone notices I am not bothering to answer.”

That made Faramir smile. “Likely you could put Gimli himself in your robes and they would not notice. They spend too much time arguing amongst themselves.”

“I think you are right.” Aragorn chuckled. Then a sudden light seemed to fill the man’s grey eyes, a light which reminded Faramir very forcibly of Boromir at his brother’s worst. Faramir knew without a sliver of doubt that the man he admired and even adored as his king was going to suggest something outrageous, perhaps even risqué, although Faramir could not quite conceive of Elessar doing the second.

“Tell me, Faramir, do you yet have in your possession some of your clothes from your days as a ranger in Ithilien?”

“A few, yes my lord.” The feeling of dread in Faramir’s stomach only grew worse.

“Good. Go and find them and leave off any emblem of rank you can possibly avoid. Then meet me in the kitchen at the lower root cellar door when you have changed into them. And bring your cloak.”

“But....” Faramir started to speak and then resigned himself. If King Elessar wished him to be in disguise for some reason, in disguise he would be. “It will me take me some time to dig them out, my lord.”

“That is no bother, Faramir. It will take me a bit to find what I seek as well.”

Faramir finished his wine and then rose to his feet. “Then I will meet you there.”

“You are a good friend, Faramir of Gondor, to trust me so implicitly on such an odd request.”

Faramir found a smile came easier than he expected. “Some day my lord, I would enjoy telling you of some of the schemes Boromir came up with.”

His king smiled back. “They are tales I look very much look forward to hearing.”

Trying to concentrate on the joys of some of those escapades and not the consequences, Faramir went to his rooms and found the garments Aragorn had requested. It took little time to change from the Steward of Gondor to a simple Ithilien ranger. And despite himself Faramir found he enjoyed the change. Faramir of Ithilien was of a lighter step than his more ranking counterpart. For good measure he pulled the bow and quiver he had little time to practice with now and his old sword from the chest where he now kept them and set them into place. He then pulled the hood of his cloak up and went down to the kitchens with the stealth he had mastered in the forests of Ithilien.

At first he thought the area in which he was supposed to meet his King was empty but then a darker shadow detached itself from the wall and stepped forward. And truly Faramir had to admit that if he had not been expecting his King he would have not known the hooded man who stood there. Only when the meager light caught the grey eyes was there any real resemblance to Elessar of Gondor, even the way the man moved was so very different from the formal grace Faramir had always known Elessar to show.

“My lord–“ Faramir began and then stopped himself at the scowl that got. “Ranger Strider I presume?” He managed with a smile.

“Much better.” Aragorn’s voice was low but full of amusement. “Strider, Estel, or any of a dozen other names I would not mind. Even Aragorn once we are safe outside the castle walls, but do leave Elessar and any titles behind us, shall we?”

“If that is your wish.” Faramir agreed. Aragorn pushed the back door open and slipped out into the night. Two rangers on an unknown task. And for just a moment the freedom was as heady as good ale.

Aragorn led him down two of the city’s great levels until they reached a tavern Faramir was certain he had never entered though he had certainly passed it without notice. It was an older building, comfortable but not quite as vivacious as those taverns he had visited with Boromir before his brother had left for Rivendell

Then again, perhaps there was simply not as much vitality in Minas Tirith these days. For while they had been victorious it was a victory so very bitterly bought. Faramir did not know of a single family in the whole of the City and surrounding lands who had not lost at least one member to the war. Sometimes more. Sometimes all. His thoughts strayed to Éowyn suddenly in far off Edoras as she no doubt struggled to help her brother deal with so many of the same problems and losses that he and Elessar faced here in Gondor every day.

“T’is the unspoken rule here, my friend. We must leave the cares of the day at the door.” Aragorn’s low voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I will do my best.” He offered and tried to rein his thoughts in accordingly. Instead of picturing Éomer and Éowyn toiling over issues of rebuilding food stores and finding families for the many orphans of Rohan. He tried to picture the siblings slipping out of the great hall Éowyn had described to him and finding a tavern to share a drink in with any of the Rohirrim who happened to be there. Éowyn at least had some skill at disguising herself amongst her people.

“Now that is a better look. Keep your hood up, hmm? Perhaps we can blend into the crowd un-noticed. If you will join me in a drink, we can see what sort of merriment is occurring tonight.”

They found an area along the back wall and Faramir was almost amused to note that people gave his king a wide breadth to pass through. Strider it seemed struck many as a man not crossed lightly. Aragorn caught the attention of one of the serving girls and she came back with two pints of ale. He dropped her a copper coin, of what realm Faramir could not determine, and she gave him a wide eyed stare and then flushed and bit her lip and offered a few whispered comments that Faramir could not quite make out. Aragorn only chuckled and patted her on the head and shook his own. Her eyes, a bright blue he noticed, darted in his direction and that only made Aragorn chuckle again and then send her away.

Faramir had seen his brother in far too many similar conversations to not understand the undertone of what had just occurred.

“I take it she thought you wanted to buy us more than ale?” Aragorn gave him a surprised look and then nodded. “As both our ladies are handy with swords I thought it best we decline.”

Faramir sighed and took a drink of his ale. It was perhaps not completely fair to Éowyn to say that he had not minded the offer. Aragorn at least had a wife to go home too. While the woman Faramir very much desired to wed was far away in Rohan.

“You miss her.”

“With every breath.” Faramir answered quietly, settling his hood more about his face to perhaps better hide his expressions if the King read them so easily.

“Then I wish that the Rohirrim will return for the body of King Théoden in as short a time as can be made so that you may see her all the sooner.”

“Thank you.”

Faramir leant against the wall as he took another sip from his ale. After a moment he realized that the noise of the place had died down and a clear voice was singing. A young voice, but not a boy’s. It held the notes true, although the song was not one that Faramir knew.

“He sings it well,” Aragorn said.

“Do you know it?”

“Sometimes I despaired they would ever stop singing it.” Aragorn chuckled. “Hobbits.”

“Hobbits?” Faramir moved a bit so that he could indeed see that it was Pippin who stood upon on of the tables his voice raised in song. “He has a pleasant voice.”

“He does.” Aragorn agreed. “But he needs more songs to use it with.”

“Hmm.” Faramir listened to the words, and wondered despite himself what Boromir had thought of the song. He would have to ask Pippin as it seemed his young friend was quite willing to speak about Boromir at any given opportunity. Faramir was not yet ready to ask his King what Aragorn remembered of the brother Faramir had loved.

“He told me that you had a good voice yourself.” Aragorn’s low voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Pippin?” Had he talked to the hobbit about singing? He did not recall it.

“Boromir.” Aragorn answered softly.

Wondering what trick of Númenórean magic Aragorn had used to deduce that he was thinking about his brother Faramir only gave a slight shrug. “I think he was– overly kind in his estimation of my talent.”

“I will reserve judgement on that until I have heard you sing,” Aragorn said with a smile. Faramir sighed but he smiled a little as well at his brother’s mention and listened to Pippin sing.

“Pardon me, my lords...but the old man there says he’d be honored to have two such fine rangers join his table. I told him I’d relay the the message.” A serving maid somewhat older than the one to take their orders spoke, gesturing to a distant table and Faramir followed her gesture with his eyes until he reached those of Mithrandir.

“We are caught.” Aragorn sighed.

Faramir sighed himself but followed his king over to where the wizard sat. “Mithrandir.” He greeted the wizard.

“Gandalf.” Aragorn gave the wizard a small nod.

“Join me, gentlemen. I am endeavoring to save seats for the hobbits.”

“A noble goal no doubt.” Aragorn smiled.

“We are a long way from Bree are we not, Strider?” Mithrandir chuckled.

“We are indeed my friend. Sit, Ranger. We may linger in anonymity for a time yet, it seems.” Aragorn, Faramir noticed, made certain to keep the hood of his cloak about his face as he sat down so Faramir followed his example and did the same.

“I would like a chance to enjoy the music without disturbing it.” Faramir agreed as he joined the two men at the table. Pippin had been joined on the table by Merry and they were now singing about drinking, something the tavern goers seemed to enjoy.

“We thought to escape the castle.”

“Always a wise thought.” Mithrandir smiled at Faramir. “And how do you fare, my friend?”

“Well enough.” He smiled back. “I should have thought to adopt a different name to join the table. Strider, Gandalf and....”

“Arormir?” Aragorn offered.

Faramir considered the name. At first he thought Aragorn had only taken the first letter of his own off but then he translated the Quenyan and then ducked his head. “That is too extravagant a name for me.” He looked over at his King, trying to read the expression in the grey eyes but the shadow cast by his cloak hood were too deep to make it possible. ’

“Why when it is true enough? You are of great wealth to the city and to Gondor.” Aragorn returned. “Besides, it is a disguise, my friend. So if no one expects you to bear it, least of all you, then of course no one will assume that anyone bearing it would be you.”

“I think you have spent too much time with the hobbits, Strider. That strikes me fully of young Peregrin’s logic. Of which I would add, he has none.”

“You do him a disservice.” Faramir frowned. “He is a brave lad, who it seems, seeks only to please those he would gain the respect of. Do not fault him so because he does not know how to earn it. He fails only because he can not understand what tasks you would see him achieve to earn your respect.”

Aragorn and the wizard exchanged a look he could not fathom and he thought he should reclaim the words with an apology if not for the fact that Pippin did indeed deserve better.

“It may be that you have seen more in the brief time you have known him than I would imagine,” Aragorn said quietly. “Or have you spoken of this with Pippin?”

“Whichever is the case I shall take your council to heart.” Mithrandir gave him a nod. “It is a trait of the house of Huinin to call me on such things I perceive. I recall Boromir saying much the same to me once.”

“Boromir was ever fond of his little ones,” Aragorn agreed. Faramir had to swallow back the urge to ask for more of what his brother thought of the companions on his quest. It would not do to bother them with questions that would only annoy. So he bided his time, taking a swallow of his ale to give himself an extra moment to think of something to say that would keep him on a safer path.

“Boromir was always kind to those in his care who were younger or smaller than he was,” Faramir finally offered.

“Spoken like a true younger brother of a good man,” Aragorn replied and then withdrew a pipe from his tunic. Without further comment he packed it full of the pipeweed contained in the pouch at his belt . Gandalf relit a stick he had obviously placed near the candle on the table for just that reason and handed it to Aragorn without being asked. The simple gesture spoke of long familiarity and made Faramir acutely aware that he knew neither of them half so well. He took another sip of his ale and turned back to listen to the hobbits sing.

After the drinking song finished Merry disappeared into the crowd for a moment and then came back dragging an only slightly protesting Frodo, with Samwise following them both looking more than a little protective of his master. “You don’t have to be yanking us about now, Master Merry. We’ll join you if Mr. Frodo wishes too.”

Aragorn chuckled. “If Frodo did not wish to, I think Samwise would well fight off the entire tavern to ensure he did not.”

“We should all have such a dedicated friend,” Gandalf sighed. Then the old wizard’s eyes lightened with a smile. “And you cannot tell me that if you thought Frodo in need of any aid you would not yet throw yourself between him and danger, Aragorn. You care as much for young Frodo as Samwise does.”

Aragorn scowled at the wizard, that expression not truly hidden in the shadows of his hood. “And you do not?”

“I never said that.” Gandalf’s smile gentled. “It eases my heart a great deal to see him smile.”

“Yes. I think it eases all our hearts to see our burdened friends find joy in the growing days of peace, “Aragorn returned and then placed his pipe back in his mouth and drew a deep breath of the fragrant smoke, before releasing it in a puff of breath that formed a perfect ring. Faramir only watched the smoke ring for a moment and then shook his head.

“A fine trick.”

“Practice and long hours of boredom,” Aragorn returned.

Merry had gotten Frodo to the table and Faramir smiled at the care with which all three of the other hobbits helped their friend to his place beside Pippin. There was a whispered conversation between the two curly heads.

“Sing us a song of the Shire, Frodo.” Merry requested. “One of Bilbo’s maybe?”

“All right, if Pippin can remember the words.”

They set off into a happy song of the joys of hobbit life and Faramir smiled at the antics that went with it. When the song ended to great applause the four hobbits excused themselves and made their way back to where he, Aragorn and Gandalf were sitting.

“Strider!” Merry called out with glee. “Look who’s come to join us!”

“It can’t be Mr. Strider, Master Merry. He’s doing important things I’m certain,” Samwise disagreed. “Being about court and things of that nature now that he’s...”

“Shush!” Pippin clamped a hand over Samwise’s mouth. “If Strider wants to join us I’m sure he’s got a reason. Can we be of service...?”

“I do believe you may have indeed learned manners, Peregrin Took.” Gandalf chuckled.

“It’s all that livery he’s been wearing and the duty to Gondor and all of that. It’s addled his brain,” Merry teased. “Don’t go bowing to Strider now. He’ll dock our breakfasts.”

Aragorn chuckled. “I would not serve my friends so poorly.”

“Since when?” Merry gave them a cheeky grin.

“You are full of sauce tonight, Meriadoc,” Gandalf frowned.

“It’s Pippin’s birthday! We’re supposed to be celebrating.” Frodo climbed up to sit beside the wizard. “Are you going to introduce us to your friend, A....Strider?” Frodo peered at him as if trying to determine who he was despite the fact that Faramir sat with his back to the light and therefore knew his face was mostly shadowed by his hood.

Aragorn smiled. “Well now. I would, certainly, but my fellow Ranger is in as much disguise as I tonight and we have yet to figure out a name you might recognize that would not give away his presence.”

“Ooh! I know. I know!” Pippin exclaimed. “I’m so glad you came!” Pippin ran about the table and Faramir found himself with his arms full of a very pleased hobbit. “Now it’s a great birthday.”

“I wish I’d known it was a special day for you, Pippin. I would have brought you a gift.” Faramir chuckled. It seemed his voice was enough to reveal him because the other hobbits all smiled.

“You came, that’s the best of gifts. I hope Legolas and Gimli come too. Then I’ll be really really happy. Instead of only really happy.”

Faramir nodded as if that was an important distinction and then settled Pippin to the bench next to him. “Happy Birthday to you, Peregrin Took.”

“Thank you.” Pippin grinned, “Merry even got the cook to make me a birthday cake.”

“Did he?” Aragorn looked from one of the hobbits to another. “And should I bother to ask if there is any of this cake left for me and my companion to sample?”

“I got it for breakfast.” Pippin explained in a tone that indicated Strider should know better than to even ask the question. “We had it done by elevensies.”

“Ah.”

“Hobbits.” Gandalf sighed.

“I don’t see how you eat so much and stay so thin, Pippin. I would need new clothes in a week if I ate what you do and I am twice your size.” Faramir was amazed at the sheer amounts of food he had seen the four hobbits eat.

“Hobbits do enjoy their food, sir. I’m very glad that Gondor has good food. I was afraid it would be like the elf food or something. And I’d just as soon never eat another piece of Elven bread in all my days,” Samwise said.

“And I am with you on that, Sam.” Frodo smiled. “Although right now a nice piece of fried bread with apples would be good.”

Faramir caught the attention of one of the servers. “My friends would care to eat. Bring us...each a meal of whatever is best tonight, and two deserts each for the hobbits if you would.”

“Certainly, Ranger.” She gave a grin at the four hobbits. “And would you and your fellow men like anything or shall I just feed the Halflings?”

That got laughter from all of them. “I think I would take another ale. Strider? Mithrandir?”

“I am quite content,” Gandalf answered.

“I will follow my friend’s lead and have another ale,” Aragorn replied. She nodded and Faramir took the time to draw two silver pieces from his purse and hand them to her.

She looked at him in shock. “That would buy food for a hundred hobbits!”

“It may purchase a drink for everyone here. We are celebrating Master Pippin’s birthday today.”

“You have just endeared yourself to the whole tavern, Ranger.” She grinned and then headed back to the kitchen.

“Thank you Fara...” Pippin bit off the rest of his name. “Ooops.”

Faramir chuckled. “An honest slip, Pippin.”

“Fari!” Merry exclaimed suddenly and Faramir glanced over at him in surprise. “That’s what Boromir called you sometimes when he wasn’t paying attention.”

Faramir felt himself flush a bit. “Is it?”

“I liked it because I thought you big folk never shortened your names like we hobbits do. He said it wasn’t a common thing but he’d been doing it since you were small and it sort of was a habit he couldn’t quite break himself of,” Merry went on.

“And we told him we were glad to see that some big folk have sense even if they don’t know it,” he paused for a moment and then went on. “And that we’d teach him all about proper ways of doing things if he’d listen.” Pippin put in.

“It seemed only fair since he was teaching us how to use the swords Strider gave us that we offer to teach him something important as well,” Merry said firmly. Then he sighed, “He didn’t listen very well though.”

“Shhh!” Pippin kicked his cousin under the table, Faramir was certain, making Merry yelp.

“Well he didn’t.”

Faramir could not help but chuckle. “Never fear, Merry, I shall take no offence at the slight to my dear brother. For while I could list all his virtues without thought I am just as well acquainted with his faults. Of which pure stubbornness was perhaps the greatest of both.”

“How can something be a great fault and a great virtue?” Pippin asked.

Faramir took a drink of his ale and considered the question, especially in light of the fact that the entire table now seemed to wait for his response.

“It depends much I suppose on the task to which you bend that stubbornness, Pippin. When it is directed to such things as the retaking of Osgiliath from the Orcs it is a good thing and a virtue. When it is directed to such folly as staying awake three nights running to prove you can it is certainly a fault because then what use are you on the forth?”

Pippin seemed to consider that for a long moment. “So it’s rather like my impetuousness then that Gandalf chides me for? It is a fault when it leads me into danger and makes me look at things I should not look at?” He gave the wizard a sheepish smile, “But when it makes me jump into fire to save a friend it is not so bad a trait to have?”

Faramir squeezed the young hobbit’s shoulder tightly. “Of the latter I would say only, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Pippin said with a grin.

“You speak well, my friend, for many things that might be considered ill in one situation can be considered fair in another.” Aragorn gave him a nod. “I see that I shall annoy you now with yet more work. For you have a good ear for turns of phrase and I will want you to look over any proclamations I devise before I make them and see how they might be better worded.”

Faramir only gave his king a slight nod, “Whatever duty I can see to for you, I will fulfill with all the honor I possess.”

“I have never doubted that,” Aragorn returned. “So what else have you been up to this birthday day Pippin, besides eating cake?”

Pippin smiled. “Well, Sam worked with Legolas in the garden and we helped a bit. You should come and see it! It’s turning out something beautiful.”

“I will come by soon then.”

“And then we had a picnic lunch with Legolas and your lady and a few of the other elves that are here.” Pippin went on.

“Ah. Now I perceive why I was abandoned for the meal. My lady is ever fond of eating outside.”

“Legolas tried to get Sam and Frodo to eat some of the food he brought but they both made muttered comments about lembas bread and wouldn’t try it. I did though and it wasn’t bad. Not to offend the elves or anything, I’d rather have a nice piece of salted pork, or a good roasted chicken with some vegetables than some of the odd things they eat.”

“I do not think I have ever had Elven food, Pippin. Is it very different?” Faramir asked.

“Never?” That was surprisingly enough from Samwise who had been so very quiet up until then. “Here now, we can’t have that. It wouldn’t be right us having had something that a prince like yourself hasn’t had.” Sam bit his lip and Frodo only gave his friend a smile.

“Peace, Samwise. I will see that Faramir gets the opportunity to try Elven food as soon as possible,” Aragorn offered.

“And none of that traveling stuff either, Master Strider, Sir. Not that it isn’t filling or anything and we’d have all shriveled up to bags of bones without it to see us through, right enough. But still, it wouldn’t be as good as what the Lady Galadriel gave us in Lothlórien or Master Elrond gave us in Rivendell. Don’t tell the lady, will you Master Strider, but I’d rather eat at Rivendell again than Lothlórien.”

Aragorn chuckled. “It will be the well kept secret of everyone at this table, Samwise.”

“Thank you.” Samwise did indeed look relieved.

The serving girls returned with several platters of food which the hobbits took to with great delight. Then the one he had paid turned to the room at large with a grin.

“Drinks for the house in honor of Master Pippin’s birthday and a Ranger’s generosity!”

That got a huge cheer from the crowd and Faramir rolled his eyes, but did not move wanting no more attention than what he had just garnered.

“If there’s– anything else you’re wanting tonight let me know.” She leaned over and whispered that into his ear. Despite himself he smiled just a bit.

“What’d she say?” Merry asked.

“Only asked if there was anything else we needed,” Faramir replied calmly.

“Oh! Is that what she meant?” Pippin looked at him with a grin and Faramir gave his young friend a glare.

“Do not tease overmuch on your birthday, Pippin, or I shall introduce you to a Gondorian tradition of allowing your friend’s to swat you as many times as you are years old.”

“Gondorian’s have a lot of odd birthday traditions, don’t they?” Frodo put in suddenly with a surprisingly teasing grin. “I remember Boromir telling Merry about them when it was Merry’s birthday on the road between Rivendell and Caradhras.”

“Oh you had to remind me of that.” Merry moaned and then hid his face in his hands. All the others at the table laughed.

“May I inquire what tradition we are speaking of?” Faramir asked after a moment.

“Well, Boromir said that in Gondor when a young man had reached a certain age it was tradition for him to get a kiss from the prettiest maid he knew. Which of course meant we had to figure out who the prettiest girl Merry knew was. Her name is Estella by the way and she’s Merry’s very distant cousin, fifth I think, once removed. And so we were making plans to introduce this tradition to the Shire when we got home.” Frodo went on.

“And then someone...” Merry glared at Pippin, “Pointed out that who knew when that would be and there might not be any pretty maids left when I got back to Buckland and seeing it was a Gondorian tradition shouldn’t I get a kiss from a maid of Gondor?”

“Well it does make a certain sense. There are several pretty maids about our city, master Merry. No doubt any of them would be pleased to give you a belated birthday kiss.”

“Yes and I wouldn’t mind it either. But somebody seemed to think that I should have my kiss on my birthday.” Merry glared even more at Pippin who only tried to look innocent and failed rather spectacularly.“And we didn’t have any Gondorian maids with us in the middle of nowhere between Rivendell and the mountains.”

Faramir looked about at his companions noting how very hard Gandalf and Aragorn were trying not to laugh, the grin that covered Frodo’s face, and the one Samwise was trying to hide in his mug. “I see.” Somehow he could not doubt that Boromir had set about this whole thing with the best of teasing intent and that it had all gone horribly wrong. Humor had not been one of his dear brother’s greatest virtues. “So I shall be brave and ask. What was the solution?”

“Well since we didn’t have any women from Gondor with us. Someone thought I should get a kiss from the fairest Gondorian we had handy.”

Pippin was shaking with silent laughter now. “Well, I did at least give you a choice.” He managed around his giggles.

“Boromir and Aragorn is not a choice!”

That made all the hobbits save Merry laugh aloud.

“Why thank you, Merry.” Aragorn almost managed to sound serious.

Merry rolled his eyes. “Well it wasn’t much of a choice anyway. And you do have to admit, Strider, he was fairer than you. No offence of course.”

“None taken.” Aragorn managed to nod but Faramir could see the laughter he was barely keeping in check. Despite himself he chuckled aloud.

“So did you get a kiss from my brother then, Merry?” Faramir smiled. “Since it was his revelation of our traditions that prompted the whole thing it seems fitting that he should have honored it.”

Merry sighed. “Yes I did. I thought he was going to argue for a bit but then he seemed to see how embarrassed and upset I was at somebody’s teasing and so he said he would consider it an honor and he just knelt down right there along the path and told me he hoped I wasn’t offended and that all of them, meaning the Fellowship I suppose, only wanted me to enjoy my birthday, and he gave me a kiss. Which was very odd as I’ve never kissed one of the big folk before and certainly no one with a beard!”

Pippin laughed all the harder and Faramir poked his young friend. “Here now, it is hardly fair of you to laugh so at your cousin’s ordeal. Just because you are fortunate to celebrate your birthday where there are pretty maids about. I am glad Boromir did not add to your embarrassment, Merry.”

“No, he was really nice about it. Since I’m certain he wasn’t really wanting to kiss me either. He did give me a fine compliment to go with it though.”

“Did he?” Faramir smiled.

“Yes. At least I think it was a compliment. Once he’d done it, he smiled at me and ruffled my hair and said it was rather like having to kiss his brother. So I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Faramir smiled a bit sadly. “Yes, well- no doubt he wouldn’t have let me get away from such an incident without teasing me much more about it,” he said with a chuckle. “Although I think he might have indeed kissed me on my birthday when I was about your size, Merry.”

“When you were my size you weren’t much more than a baby!”

“Eleven or so,” Faramir said, and then took a drink of his ale. “Mother had passed and so I had no one else to kiss me on my birthday either.” He offered. Then he found a smile. “So Pippin which of the ladies about do you wish to get a kiss from, hmm? I’m certain none of them will mind.”

Pippin sighed. “I don’t know that I want one at all now. Boromir said he’d kiss me on my birthday too, if we were still traveling when it came around. And now even though I know it’d be an excuse for Merry to tease me back I wish he could.”

“We all do, Pip.” Aragorn reached over and gripped Pippin’s shoulder.

Merry gave a deep sigh and then looked over at his cousin. “I didn’t mean to make you sad on your birthday, Pip.”

“Nor did I,” Faramir put in. “For I am certain he would have kept his promise, even here, if you had only teased him enough about it.”

“Do you think so?” Pippin brightened at the thought. “Even in front of all the people?”

Faramir managed a smile. “Boromir was never– reserved when it came to friends, Pippin. Likely he would have made it a fine jest between friends for everyone to cheer at.”

“Then we all could have tackled him for your honor!” Merry giggled. “Tackling Boromir was fun since he never expected we could do it.”

“Tackling Aragorn was fun too since he didn’t think we’d do it either.” Frodo pointed out.

“I was watching the road for enemies. It never crossed my mind that I would be beset by a hoard of rampaging hobbits from within my own ranks.” Aragorn frowned but then he chuckled. “It was a well planed ambush, my friends.”

“Now that is a compliment,” Frodo decided.

“Come on now, Pip, you have to get a birthday kiss. Otherwise you won’t have a good year.” Merry moved around to sit beside his cousin. “The lady who brought us our food is pretty.”

“She wants to kiss Faramir not me,” Pippin muttered.

Faramir chuckled. “Actually I think she wanted to kiss Strider, but I was a reasonable second choice.”

Aragorn rolled his eyes, “Your lady is several leagues away, Faramir. Mine is only moments and with my luck of late would come looking for me at precisely that moment.”

“Besides who would want to kiss any other woman with Lady Arwen around?” Merry smiled. “Maybe she’ll kiss you for your birthday Pip. She is the prettiest lady in the whole city.”

“I shall take her your compliment, Master Meriadoc.” Aragorn smiled.

“No, Arwen isn’t a Gondorian, except by marriage of course, and it’s a Gondorian custom, so it has to be a Gondorian lady. That was the stickling point at Merry’s birthday after all.” Frodo put in.

“I don’t think I want one, really. It would make me sad.” Pippin sighed.

“He would not want you to grieve so as to miss out on a good year, Pip.” Faramir consoled his young friend as best he could.

“No, probably not.” Pippin sighed. “It’s just– well he promised you know? And now I–“

”I know,” Faramir squeezed his shoulder tightly. “But we must find you someone in his stead, hmm?” He considered the women he had seen and which one would be best suited to give Pippin his birthday kiss.

“Hey!” Merry grinned suddenly. “I’ve got it. Faramir can kiss you since Boromir isn’t here. That’s fair right? I mean you’d be keeping your brother’s promise to Pip and everything.” Merry’s grin got wider. “And I can still tease him back!”

“Ah, now I see the true reason for your offer. It was not to find an answer to your cousin’s sadness, but only to find a way to tease him, really Meriadoc, Aragorn chided.

“Well– can we not just have my teasing him be a sort of side benefit of finding an answer? Please?”

“I see I have no say in this?” Faramir sighed.

“Of course you do.” Pippin scowled at Merry. “Don’t mind Merry. I think at some point when I wasn’t watching, Treebeard must have dropped him on his head or something.”

Merry made a face at his cousin and Frodo without even seeming to think about it reached over and swatted Merry on the back of the head and kicked Pippin under the table. “You two have the manners of drunken goblins. Really, Faramir, please do not judge all of the Shire folk by these two.”

Faramir smiled just a bit. “But there is no finer standard on which to judge, Master Baggins, than the four I see here with me. For men I think could take great lessons from our little cousins. All courage and bravery in battle, heartrending dedication to see the impossible accomplished, loyalty without cease to a sworn master and yet still the ability to laugh with and tease and annoy those we love once the battles are done and peace come at long last to our land.” He looked at the two hobbits beside him with a smile. “Since I can not share in your delight at sharing these days of joy with those I love most, Pippin, I will instead be quite proud to stand in my brother’s stead.” He leaned down and caught Pip in a quick kiss. “Happy Birthday.” His voice came out rougher than he expected, deeper, with the echo of a another’s he had never heard himself utter.

Pippin blinked and then much to Faramir’s surprise only hugged him with a great deal of strength for so small a frame. “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.” He hugged the small yet strong frame to his, thinking of the last time he had hugged Boromir. Too short an embrace to satisfy all the rest of his life but all he had to recall. “Now you will have a happy year. And so it is a good birthday, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I suppose it is.” Pippin smiled, but there were tears in the bright eyes. “Thank you again.”

“I shall agree with Boromir once more. T’is very like kissing my brother.” He was surprised at the smile he felt cross his face.

“Really?” That brightened Pippin’s eyes. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Comparing me to Boromir I mean.”

“We are all guardians of Gondor, are we not?” Faramir set Pippin to his side again. “Servants to throne and warriors of the citadel?” He gave Aragorn a slight nod as he spoke.

“Am I still? A guard of the citadel I mean? Can you be a guard of the citadel once you’re cast out of service?” Pippin looked from him to Aragorn and then to Gandalf.

“What’s this? You didn’t tell us you got kicked out.” Merry exclaimed.

“Pippin, whatever did you do?” Frodo asked at the same moment.

Pippin looked down at his ale. “Well...” He glanced back up at Faramir. “I tried to save a friend. And so he told me I wasn’t to bother him anymore and that he released me from his service.” Pippin scowled. “And I didn’t appreciate being tossed about like a bag of apples either.”

“Madness makes all manner of men to things that they would never do otherwise, Pippin.” Aragorn spoke softly. “It is hard, I know, but you must not take what was said to your heart.”

“It isn’t that I really minded not being in his service anymore...but...I don’t want to not be in yours!” He looked from Aragorn back to Faramir who was still trying to accept what Pippin had said . “Can I still be in the service of the Steward, Faramir? Please?”

“I know of no other’s service I would rather have, Master Peregrin. But it is no longer the Stewards who you must swear service to.” He smiled. “Although I do not think you will be turned away if you were to swear allegiance to King Elessar. He is– as are we all in Minas Tirith I think, fond of Hobbits.”

“All right then.” Pippin’s eyes lit up and he hopped off the bench and ran around to Aragorn. “Please?”

“I am found out, am I? Very well, Master Took.”

Faramir smiled as Aragorn sat up straight and by only setting aside his pipe and shaking the hood of his dark cloak from his head let go the Ranger and became the King of Gondor.

Pippin drew the sword that Faramir had given him and held it out in both hands for Aragorn to take in his. And though it might have been comical the great difference in their sizes it was not. “Here do I, Peregrine son of Paladin, swear allegiance and fealty to Gondor, in peace or war, in living or dying, from this moment henceforth, until my lord release me or death take me.”

“And I accept.” Elessar smiled, and handed the blade back. “Take back thy sword Peregrin, son of Paladin. And I will honor what has been given. Fealty with thanks, loyalty with honor, disloyalty with justice.”

“Oh that’s much better than the last time.” Pippin grinned. “Thank you, Sire.”

“You are most welcome.”

“Just don’t send Faramir away on something horrible, all right?”

Aragorn raised one eyebrow at that but Faramir was very glad he did not ask anything further.

“You can not go making demands of the King when you have just now sworn allegiance to him, Pippin.” Faramir gave his young friend as teasing a glare as he knew how as he spoke. “You must learn to follow orders.”

“Orders are fine and good, Faramir. When they make sense. And I’m certain all of Aragorn’s orders make sense. To one of the Big Folk, anyway. But I don’t know that I can stop asking why it is I’m expected to do something if it doesn’t make sense to me. So I’m likely to get in a lot of trouble. You will set me right it about it, won’t you?”

Despite himself Faramir sighed. “It may indeed be beyond my skill, Pippin, but I shall endeavor to do so.”

“There now, you see I need not send Faramir away on something horrible, you have arranged it for me.” Aragorn chuckled. “For I can certainly foresee no other duty in my kingdom more arduous than keeping Peregrin Took out of trouble.”

“It’s a lot easier to fight orcs,” Merry told him in what appeared to be utter seriousness.

“And cave trolls.” That was from Gandalf.

“And Urak-Hai.” Came from Frodo.

“Well– it might be easier than facing down the Nazgûl, Master Faramir, sir. But I wouldn’t count on it.” Sam offered finally.

“I see.” He could not help but smile. “We are well met then, Master Pippin, for I shall tell you in all honesty, Boromir had much the same task with me when I first came to service.”

“Did he really?” Pippin grinned and then picked up his tankard in both hands and tapped it against Faramir’s. “To Gondor.”

“To Gondor indeed, Master Peregrin.” He toasted, tapping his tankard back against Pippin’s.

“And fellowship,” Merry offered.

“And fellowship,” Frodo agreed.

“To Gondor, and fellowship, and many more years of happiness to both.” Aragorn raised his tankard with a smile.

“It appears we are almost too late!” Gimli’s voice came from behind him. “Give me that, if you don’t mind. And take this.”

Faramir turned to look over his shoulder as Gimli took a tankard from a serving girl and then a cup which he passed to Legolas. “Right. To Gondor and fellowship!”

“And happiness,” Legolas reminded the dwarf with a smile.

It took a bit of maneuvering but all nine tankards and cups were brought together over the table.

“Remember today.” The words came a sudden sharp call in his mind.

Faramir smiled and offered as quietly as he could. “Today, life is good.”

And it was.


End file.
